


Lilith's Fayre

by All_the_damned_vampires



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Bad Pornography, Complicated Poly Relationships, Compulsion Spells, Dick Slap, Elements of Prostitution, F/F, F/M, Multi, Murder, Sit-coms, Strap-Ons, purely self-indulgent crossover elements with the movie "Lost Boys"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 09:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6074454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_the_damned_vampires/pseuds/All_the_damned_vampires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meg’s a demon—a succubus to be exact—who’s always seems to fall on the bad side of luck. Fresh out of a nasty experience, Meg, fellow demon Casey and vampire Lenore—it’s complicated, don’t ask—end up seeking shelter at Lilith’s sideshow, a shabby affair run out by the Santa Carla boardwalk. Meg’s always been an entertainer, and on the boardwalk she’s free to fire dance for the tourists, collecting coin and feeding on emotion and energy, hiding in plain sight. It should be satisfying and simple. But Lilith has ambition: she is holding hostage a dangerous prize. The smart thing to do would be for Meg to just stay out of it. But of course, that isn’t going to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the beautiful art prompt "Lucifer's Sideshow" by Ms. DoomandGloom. Art Link:   
> http://ms-doomandgloom.livejournal.com/2969.html
> 
> A huge thank you to nottheribbons and dugindeep for the being alpha and beta readers for this piece. This is my first Megstiel fic, and they helped me so much with the execution of this story.

1997

Meg stood on the ridge of the hill, fire fans in her hands, spinning in arcs of orange light. The sky was grey—an hour or two before dawn—and the flames sparking in Meg’s grip were the only brightness. Spinning and dipping, Meg whirled like a top, entwined in flame. She let her fans drift down to her bare thighs, tap against her skin, trailing heat on her flesh. She tossed one fan, then the other, the fire coming so close to her head that it crisped the ends of her fly-away curls.

She was alone. Normally, during a performance there was music, a crowd. Murmurs of awe and gasps of shock as fire flew around her form. And the pulse, the delicious low buzz of the audience—fear, lust, delight—feeding her, sustaining her. Instead, Meg danced alone, spinning her fans quicker and quicker, breath coming in pants.

At the end of her act, Meg would always extinguish her flames in a standing bucket of water, the kerosene-fueled fire flickering out of the wicks and billows of steam swirling up in impressive gusts. This time, Meg kept dancing, lungs beginning to ache with effort. She twirled until the flames guttered out.

Below her, in the valley, a different fire—fueled by gasoline—kept burning.


	2. Chapter 2

At the bottom of the hill rested a sleek, silver trailer—an airstream—the door propped open. Two brunettes sat on the trailer steps; one was slim and languid, while the other one was curvier. As Meg approached—skin pinked from the heat of the fire and darkened with lashings of soot and dried blood—the curvier woman stood and ducked back inside the RV.

“Quite a performance,” the remaining woman murmured and Meg smirked, despite feeling filthy and exhausted.

“More than that bastard Crowley deserved,” Meg said, shrugging. “Still, we all say ‘goodbye’ in our own way.” She dropped her bucket—metal inside clattering. Then her mouth dropped open as she took in the image on the side of the trailer, the garish picture recently air-brushed there, the bright paint only just dried.

“Casey, oh my God!”                       

It was Meg—larger than life—airbrushed on the side of the airstream. Beads sparkling around her neck and a tiny silk skirt fluttering around her hips. Swirls of red and gold and orange, her painted eyes heavy lidded with promise, fiery fans making patterns in her capable hands.

Casey smiled, pushing a lock of dark hair off her shoulder. “Like you said, we all say ‘goodbye’ in our own way. It was something to do while you were up the hill doing your funeral dance. And it’s not like Crowley’s going to care. The trailer is ours now.”

“Gorgeous.”

“Knew you’d like looking at yourself,” Casey smirked.

“Not exactly ‘inconspicuous’,” Meg argued but she was pleased.

“Fuck ‘inconspicuous’,” Casey responded. She leaned in and planted a kiss on Meg’s neck, then wrinkled her pert nose. “You stink. Clean up and let’s get out of here. Five years was five too many.” She then jerked her head toward the trailer. The other woman’s face peered from behind the small window’s curtain, pale as the moon with sad, solemn eyes. “And the sun’s coming up. Lenore needs to rest.”

“Nap time for the vampire,” Meg agreed and headed for the shower.

A short while later, the airstream was rumbling down the dirt road leading out of the valley, away from the heap of twisted metal and plastic that still smoldered under the red of the rising sun.

“Burn in hell, motherfucker,” Meg whispered as she watched the wreckage burn, growing smaller and smaller as they left it in the distance, driving away. “Burn in hell.”


	3. Chapter 3

The airstream rolled and rocked over the dirt road, but Casey handled the vehicle with all the panache of an experienced ship’s captain, and Meg ducked into the back of the RV, pushing aside the heavy velvet curtain that blocked off the back. She remembered Crowley’s taste being tacky, glaring, but nearly every personal touch had been stripped away from the trailer, leaving it a blank slate. Behind the curtain, Lenore was curled up on the enormous bed. The tiger-print sheets Meg remembered from before were gone; only a tangle of quilts and velvety blankets were piled on the bed now. Meg recognized the fuzzy purple one as her own.

“You okay?” Meg asked, tumbling down onto the bed next to Lenore. The vampire woman was turned away, reclining on her side, facing the wall. Her rib cage swooped down into a deep curve, rising back up in the swell of her hip, as graceful as the lines of a cello. Meg wanted to reach out and touch, but she forced her hands to wait.

“Not really,” Lenore said softly, her voice a bit slurred with sleep. The sun had risen in the sky, and as the RV hit a rut or a bump, the blackout curtains would jerk and let through slivers of eye-stinging light. “Yes and no, I suppose.”

“It’s over.”

“Until the next time.”

“It won’t be like that again,” Meg swore fiercely.

“Have to do what the leader says, don’t you? In a nest, that’s all that matters.”

“No. Not again,” Meg promised.

Lenore sighed. All Meg could see was the fall of the vampire’s dark hair, shiny and straight, pooling on the blankets beneath her.

“I was a jerk for following him, I was a jerk for betraying him,” Meg muttered, flushed with frustration. “Which is it; I can’t see your face.”

“You’re a jerk, period,” Lenore murmured, but she sounded amused. “Hold me. I know you want to.”

“Mopey vampire,” Meg groused, even as she fitted her smaller frame up against Lenore’s back, the skin of the other woman cool to the touch. “Hungry?”

“Not now,” Lenore said, voice implacable, and although Meg wanted to argue, she was smart enough to keep silent and rest her forehead against Lenore’s soft neck.

A few hours later, the RV slowed and rumbled to a halt. Meg roused from the half-doze she’d been in, her arm wrapped around Lenore’s waist. Casey slipped past the curtain and flopped on the bed. “Move over, hags.”

“Hush,” Meg whispered, but she nudged the sleeping Lenore to the side, leaving a wedge of space for Casey to wiggle her tall frame into.

“Found a place to pull over. I’m beat,” Casey said, yawning. “And hungry.”

“Hungry,” Meg repeated. She could feel it, gnawing in her gut. Not a hunger for food or drink. A need for emotion, energy. The need of a succubus to feed.  It started low in her stomach, a twisting and cramping desire somewhere between the hunger for food and the arousal for sex.  She rolled onto her back and twitched her hips restlessly, then swallowed a moan when Casey reached out and pressed her hand between Meg’s legs.

“Down, girl.”

“Don’t,” Meg said weakly, not sure if Casey was offering to try and assuage her hunger. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“I know,” Casey whispered, pulling her hand away. “Did Lenore eat?”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Smart girl. We’re all running on fumes here. Can you sleep?”

“Are we safe?” Meg asked, then winced. It was her responsibility, keeping them safe. Without a nest, just the three of them, she felt it keenly. Saying it out loud made her feel weak, somehow. Like she should just know.

“Sleep,” Casey said and burrowed under a quilt. “No one’s coming for us. We’re safe.”

But it was like ants, marching across her skin. Meg tried to sit up, wiggle away, but Casey pulled her back flat to the mattress.

“Safe,” Casey whispered. “The doors are locked. No one’s coming down this road. Rest.”

“Rest,” Meg agreed and fell back into the light doze she had been hovering in before.


	4. Chapter 4

When Meg awoke again, the light trickling through the cracks in the curtains had a deeper, more golden quality. Afternoon sunlight. The RV was moving again, the crackling hiss of dirt and rock under the tires. Lenore slept, breath coming in quiet, whispery exhales.

Meg ducked through the curtain. Casey was at the wheel, back straight, the sun creating a warm halo around her brunette hair. She had a can of beer in one hand and a woman’s soft voice was singing low on the radio.

“Found his stash?”

“Beer and whiskey. Good stuff, the whiskey. Saving it for later. Figure we’d celebrate around the campfire.”

“Campfire?” Meg asked.

Casey tapped the creased map partially unfolded on the passenger seat next to her. “It’s on the map. A state camp site not too far. We can settle for a moment, catch our breath. Make some decisions.”

Meg arched an eyebrow, feeling a little more like herself. “Do we have any provisions?”

“Booze. Some fancy cocktail nuts. I haven’t looked in the freezer yet.”

“We’re going to roast cocktail nuts over the campfire?”

“We’re going to get fucking smashed,” Casey retorted, grinning. “We deserve it. Come sit next to me and be my navigator.”

Before long, they were pulling into the camp grounds. A few RV hookups, some dirt pads for tent sites, a dusty cement structure promising running water and toilets. It was run down, and virtually deserted, except for a pickup truck farther down the row of sites.

Meg and Casey climbed out and stood in the sun, stretching. It was dry, the ground powdery with dust and sand, and although the sun would soon be setting soon, the air was warm.

“I’ll get a fire going,” Casey said.

“Girl Scout.”

“No. But if you want to get me a uniform…”

“Tease,” Meg replied and arched her back, feeling each vertebrae pop as she worked out the kinks from sitting too long in the passenger seat. She drummed her fingers against her hip. Her body wanted to move, to dance. She started to stride toward the bathroom, only to be arrested by the sound of muffled sobs.

“Lenore’s crying,” Casey said, her face carefully neutral.

“Mopey vampire is mopey,” Meg said lightly. She turned and headed back inside the airstream.

Behind the curtain, it was dark, but the air was slightly cooler. Meg supposed it was because Lenore gave off so little heat of her own. Lenore lifted her head off the bed, her big eyes sadder than usual, rimmed with red.

“I had a dream,” Lenore said, then laid her head back down limply on the Meg’s purple blanket.

“You dream too much,” Meg said lightly, sliding to her knees beside the bed. She pushed Lenore’s sheaf of dark hair away from the vampire’s neck, stroking the white skin beneath.

Lenore sighed. “I dreamt I was driving down a dark road. There were farms in the fields, I could just make out the humps of the barns against the hills. But the lights were out. One of them was mine, but I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find my farm.”

“Hush,” Meg soothed. “It was a dream. Get your journal, write it down. Make some tragic song out of it. We’ll find a place where you can sing again and you can get all the locals bawling.”

“But what if there’s somewhere I’m supposed to be?”

“You’re safe,” Meg answered, trying not to be annoyed, too hurt, too guilty. The conversation was all too familiar. “You’re with Casey and with me. Where you belong. We’ll find a new home.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Enough.” Meg bit her lip at her sharper tone. It pricked her, that question. It was an itch, a maddening scratch, this old question.

Because she didn’t. She didn’t know at all.

“My journals are burned,” Lenore whispered. “My books, too.”

“I know.” Meg didn’t bother to make the same promises. There would be new books, new journals. New things to cherish and love, new things to lose and grieve.

They sat quietly together for a while. Meg stroked Lenore’s neck, her soft shoulder, trailed her fingers down Lenore’s cheek. Lenore reached out her hand and entwined it with Meg’s own, pushed a soft kiss to Meg’s fingers.

“Your hands still smell like blood.”

“It will fade. You hungry?” Meg already knew the answer.

“I shouldn’t,” Lenore protested weakly, but she let out a soft moan when Meg tugged the scoop neck of her gray t-shirt, down one shoulder, revealing inches of smooth white skin.

Meg brushed her curls off her shoulder, bared her neck and Lenore leaned in for her feed.

There was the press of cool lips and Lenore’s needle-sharp teeth descended, cutting quickly through skin. Meg hissed out a breath, then smiled with pleasure. It wasn’t the ecstatic thrall that Meg had read about in one of Lenore’s gloomy, vampire novels. But it was Lenore’s soft mouth, her quiet moans, her pain-bright bite. It was enough.

Each beat of Meg’s heart was counted in the still space and as she felt her body begin to falter, to slow, Meg reached up and firmly pushed Lenore away. The vampire woman’s eyes were dark and wild, and she snarled and twisted in Meg’s grip. Meg held firm. Demon strength was more than a match for a struggling vampire.

“I’m sorry,” Lenore murmured when she came back to herself, teeth tucked away and cheeks pink with both blood and embarrassment.

“Anytime, darling,” Meg said. She let Lenore lift her hand and kiss it, the charms on her bracelet tinkling against Lenore’s lips. “Was it enough?”

“It…it was fine.”

It was easy for Meg to tell that Lenore was lying. This low on energy, Meg knew her blood would taste weak, watery. An unsubstantial meal.

“Which one is mine?” Lenore asked quietly, still playing with the charms. It was a question she’d asked many times before.

“This one,” Meg said. It was a simple piece of amber, twinned with copper wire. Lenore wore its twin on her own wrist.

“Is there water?” Lenore asked abruptly, pulling away, and Meg closed her eyes with against the pain of too familiar guilt. Lenore stood and pulled back the curtain, brushing out the dark folds of her long black slip dress.

“Bathrooms just down the row,” Meg answered, remaining on her knees. She felt a bit dizzy from blood loss, from hunger. She waited a few minutes until Lenore had left, letting her head clear, before wobbling to her feet and heading back outside.

Casey had a fire going, small and smoky, spindly pieces of fallen wood and dried grass. She watched Lenore stride toward the bathrooms and her pillow-y lips pursed in a frown.

“See, Girl Scout. I called it right the first time.”

“Fine,” Casey said. “I’m a Girl Scout, and you’re a mom. That was a stupid thing to do.”

“She was hungry,” Meg muttered, rubbing at the bite on her neck. This weak, it would take longer for the tiny divots in her flesh to heal.

“You didn’t do much but make yourself weaker,” Casey argued. “She’ll need more.”

“I know.”

“We need to be careful right now—“

“I _know_.” Meg smiled ruefully. “Who exactly is the mom here, again?”

After getting the fire burning to her satisfaction, Casey chipped ice-glazed frozen food from the RV’s freezer. Most of it was freezer burned, but a few packets of hot dogs roasted over the fire paired surprisingly well with the barrel-aged whiskey Crowley had kept. It went down Meg’s throat—smooth, sweet burn—and she purred as she passed the bottle back to Casey.

“Here’s to freedom,” Casey toasted, foolish grin on her face. Meg couldn’t smile back. Her gaze darted over to Lenore, but if the vampire woman heard she gave no indication. She was staring off down the row, to the only other camp site occupants. Two men in their twenties, playing hard rock on a boom box—the sound raspy from torn speakers—crouching around a fire of their own.

“Sorry,” Casey muttered at the same time Meg said, “Don’t.”

“I can smell them,” Lenore said softly.

“It’s dangerous,” Meg replied. She couldn’t smell them, but she could feel them. Two feverish pulses of life, sending out invisible waves of heat and emotion. As hot and dangerous as her lit fans, spinning in a sparking arc just out of her reach. She wanted them. She wanted to take them down under her into the sand, see the shiny fear in their eyes, and feed and feed and _feed_.

“And tomorrow we’ll have _more_ control?” Lenore slid a finger across her lip. “They’re perfect.”

“No.”

“We said we wouldn’t do that,” Casey chimed in, but her eyes were drawn to the pair as well. “We promised.”

“We promised each other a lot of things,” Lenore growled and her teeth were out, jagged needles of white indenting her lower lip.

“No,” Meg said again.

“Well, if you command it—“

“Dammit, be cool,” Casey hissed. It was too late. Under the persistence stares of three women, of course the two men had noticed. Both stood and sauntered over—one dangling a six-pack of beer, the plastic ring twisted around one finger.

“Shit,” Meg whispered.

They were big and grimy, and Meg saw twin cocky smiles—the peacock strut of men aware that they were being admired—as she felt their nearly identical waves of emotion. Lust, amusement, and an undercurrent of violence. The almost hateful buzz of men used to taking what they wanted. Not nice guys. Not nice guys at all.

Whatever the men might have said or did no longer mattered. Casey sprang first, followed by Lenore, and Meg found herself pulled along with them. Then she was holding one down in the sand, his body as weak beneath her as a kitten. Lenore’s teeth were in his neck and he was wailing, thrashing, fear and terror coming in delicious waves. He was hurt and he was scared, and Meg gripped his hair in one hand, his wrist in another, drank his emotions and fed deep.


	5. Chapter 5

“So, where to?” Lenore asked quietly, not bothering to lift her head out of Meg’s lap. They were sated, flush and full. Both pleased and guilty about it. They were sprawled on the sofa inside the trailer, curtains drawn against the fading sun. Dirt had turned to black top, and the thud of the tires was almost hypnotic. Meg stroked the nape of the white neck under her hand.

“We need a nest,” Meg said and felt Lenore tense slightly.

“Lilith,” Casey answered, her delicate, capable hands resting on the steering wheel. “She sent us that postcard.”

“She sent us a postcard eleven years ago!” Meg responded, but she was reaching into the large canvas tote that served as a catch-all for her things and rummaging in a side pocket. She pulled out a battered postcard, the edges foxed. On the front was a picture of a beach boardwalk at night—brightly lit Ferris wheel, the sandy curve of the beach, a wooden roller coaster. On the back, a faded message written in a feminine hand.

“Santa Carla,” Meg mused. Lenore lifted her head and squinted at the card. “Looks…interesting. Do you think she’s still there?”

“Most nests are usually pretty stable,” Casey said, not mentioning their own bad luck. “Eleven years isn’t that long, not for one of us. We drive there and find out?”

“It’s as good an idea as any,” Meg said.

“Or we keep driving,” Lenore murmured, her throaty voice so low Meg almost thought the words were her own thoughts. “Just us. Driving forever.”

“We need a nest,” Meg said again.

“I know,” Casey said, sounding a little annoyed now, but Lenore was silent.

**

Meg kept the windows down as she drove up the coast. It was twilight, the sky dusky purple and blue. She could hear the waves rushing on the shore; smell the salt and the sand, even over the rumble of freeway traffic and the stink of exhaust. From the highway, the boardwalk lights twinkled, flashier than the stars.

The boardwalk drew the eye immediately. Pink and white and blue lights, flashing and sparkling. There was the thump of music, screams and shouts from the rides. Throngs of people moved along the promenade, buzzing with excitement, anticipation, a giddy, holiday atmosphere. Hanging in the air was the delicious scent of fried food.

Across from the boardwalk, there was a cluster of buildings, low and wood paneled. Unified by strands of Christmas lights, the painted sign that hung above read “Lilith’s Fayre.” On the walls were large posters of the performers, faded with age and exposure, but light shone through the flaps leading to the main entrance and people moved in and out.

“Seems to still be in business,” Casey mused. “Looks a little shabby.”

Meg snorted as she pulled the RV up to the curb and squinted a bit at the art. A peeling painting of an illusionist, pretty face floating disembodied above the graceful curve of her neck. Another of a dark-eyed woman swallowing a curved sword. Yet another depicting two women draped in flimsy veils and curled around each other. Farther down, another figure with her hand hovering over a crystal ball, swirls of astrological symbols done in purples and blues.

“The promotional art is for shit,” Meg said bluntly. “You could do better.”

“First of all, ‘duh’,” Casey replied with a grin. “And secondly, I will.”

Inside Lilith’s Fayre, things looked a bit more promising. There was a sizeable crowd milling about, the paint on the walls was fresher, brighter. Casey and Meg led the way, Lenore trailing behind. A young man with close-cropped dark hair and a wide, smiling mouth—a demon—stopped handing out flyers as they approached and darted off through the throng of people.

“Spotted,” Casey said.

“Let’s see if we’re welcome,” Meg answered back.

It didn’t take long. Within minutes, a woman in a long, white gown—her hair in artful, blond spirals—was striding towards them, arms outstretched in welcome.

“We’re underdressed,” Casey whispered to Meg and Meg chuckled quietly.

“It’s been too long,” Lilith purred, pulling Meg and Casey each into an embrace. Meg felt her shoulders relax a bit once she was in Lilith’s arms—Queen of her nest, the one in charge and responsible—and sighed with relief.

“Hello, Lilith.”

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” Lilith said, stepping back to look over both demon women with a critical eye. She let her eyes drift up and down, taking in Meg’s worn t-shirt and denim cutoffs and Casey’s simple tank top and jeans combination. “Casey still spinning in the silks? We already have an aerialist.”

“She’s an artist, too,” Meg shot back, arching a brow. “Air-brush. The outside of this place could use a bit of a face lift.”

“True enough, the salt air is terrible on this little old shack.”

 “You seem to be doing well for yourself here,” Casey said.

Lilith shrugged. “Tourism pays well. Plenty to go around here. It keeps my demons happy.” She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, still smiling. “I heard you were out East. With Crowley.”

“Things changed,” Meg said shortly.

“I don’t like change,” Lilith said precisely, showing even, white teeth. She inclined her head over at the first demon Meg had seen, now hovering solicitously next to Lilith. “Guy here set up something called ‘electronic mail’ for me. These new leaps and bounds in innovation are a bit dizzying. I don’t like to be put out of sorts.”

“We’re not looking for a lot of excitement,” Meg responded, tone controlled and careful.

“I hope not,” Lilith replied. She looked over Meg’s shoulder and stiffened a bit. “Oh Meg, honestly, _still_?”

Lenore stepped up behind Meg, stiff and silent.

“You remember Lenore?”

“Of course, your little pet,” Lilith sniffed. “I would have thought you’d have gotten rid of her by now.” Her eyes trailed over the bracelet dangling from Meg’s wrist. “At least you have her under control.”

“I hope we’re all welcome,” Meg said lightly. “I’d like to get back to work. Do you have a fire dancer right now?”

Lilith brightened. “No. And I well remember how your performances would…stir the crowds.” Lilith drew her tongue over her red lower lip. “It was always delicious. Well, let me show you around, explain how everything works. But keep an eye on your pet, Meg. Vampires don’t do too well in this town.”

“Why not?” Meg asked.

“Hunters,” Lilith said, shrugging, as if it was of no merit. “They come and go. Santa Carla’s known for its vampire reputation.”

“And you stay here?” Casey asked incredulously.

“Of course,” Lilith snipped, turning on her heel. “They’re not looking for _us_. Just the blood-sucking night crawlers. And we’re very, very careful. Like I said, I don’t like to be put out of sorts.”

Meg, Casey and Lenore trailed after Lilith as she led them out a tour. The building had one main stage, flanked by a hall with smaller rooms on either side. Each room had a small stage and Lilith explained with a coy smile that most of the performing was done in the main room, with performers available in the smaller venues for a more private show.

“But only do what you’d like,” Lilith said, almost gently, taking in the solemn faces of the three women trailing her. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to opportunity for a more intimate tête-a-tête with a client or two, but everyone has their own preferences.”

“Thank you,” Meg said.

There was a final door at the end of the hall and Meg was surprised when Lilith spun on her heel just shy of it, taking Casey’s arm to lead her back through the side show. Unlike the canvas flaps covering the entrance to most of the stages—doors in name only—this entrance was solid wood and secured with a padlock.

“What’s on the last stage?” Lenore asked, beating Meg to the question.

Lilith stiffened. It was difficult for Meg to tell if it was due to Lenore speaking up—Lilith had made it clear how she felt about the vampire’s presence—or something else.

“Jimmy. He’s a faith healer. He’s not…one of us,” Lilith sniffed.

“You rent the room out or what?” Casey asked, confused.

“We have a partnership of sorts,” Lilith said, and if Meg hadn’t known better, she would have said that the other demon was being cagey, nervous. Lilith herded them back down the hall, white dress flapping with her quick movements.

“An alliance with who?” Meg asked.

“Never you mind,” Lilith sighed. “It’s not your concern. Anyway, we have a house up in the hills, perfect little nest. I’ll have Guy give you directions. You’re staying, right?”

“Yes,” Meg said. Safety and home. They had been looking for it. She wasn’t sure now if they’d found it. “Thank you, Lilith.”

“You’re welcome,” Lilith said and then she let her eyes rake over Lenore one more time. “We’ll work out some kind of arrangement for your pet.”

**

Lilith’s nest made their home in a large, ramshackle house just two blocks away. Meg thought she could make out a faded Greek letter still clinging to the front of the porch. As if to confirm her suspicion, Guy—who was riding along in the RV to give them directions—nodded and said, “Frat house. Or, it used to be.”

“What happened?” Meg asked.

“Vampires. Ate the whole fraternity.” Guy grinned wickedly. “Hunters came through and cleared out the bloodsuckers. So now it’s ours.”

It was well suited for a nest, Meg could see. The inside was luxurious and gaudy--bright, satiny fabrics heaped here and there--and dim. A few demons were present, looking at the newcomers curiously, but otherwise the house was empty.

“Nice,” Meg said, because she was supposed to, even though she didn’t feel, well, anything.

“We sleep in what used to be a common room,” Guy explained, “But there are rooms upstairs that demons have claimed for their own belongings. Lilith said you could have a vacant room for your vampire. Just be sure to lock her in.”

Meg felt Lenore stiffen at her side.

“I’ll sleep in the airstream,” Lenore murmured under her breath.

“Guy, can you excuse us for a moment?” Meg asked and although Guy frowned, he drifted away to strike up a conversation with another demon.

“It’s fine,” Lenore said.

“What the hell?” Meg hissed fiercely.

“You going to lock your ‘belonging’ up in a room?” Lenore asked, arching a brow. “Am I a _thing_ you need to store in an attic?”

“That’s not the point, it’s not safe!”

“I thought things were going to be different—“

“Stop,” Casey said wearily. “I’ll sleep out with Lenore tonight in the trailer. We’ll switch off. No one’s getting locked in.”

“Fine,” Meg said tightly.

“Fine,” Lenore responded and turned on her heel, heading back out of the house.

Meg pressed her fingers to her eyes and sighed.

“You two never talk about the real problem,” Casey scolded lightly.

“And what is the real problem?” Meg snapped.

“Ugh. You guys can figure it out. I am not Dr. Ruth or whoever you call to counsel interspecies couples.”

“You’re her girlfriend, too,” Meg reminded Casey.

“Yes, her girlfriend. Which is not what you are and you know it. Whatever, I’m going to bed. She’ll be fine.”

Meg forced herself to circulate around the nest in the absence of Lenore and Casey. She met demons and held bland and carefully neutral conversations about her travels. As the evening wore down and dawn began to approach, more and more demons trickled in. Finally, Lilith made her appearance, clothed in a filmy white negligee, and her demons began filing into the common room. The thickly carpeted floor was covered in pillows and quilts—a nest in truth—and Meg found a place for herself quickly. She had only just settled down when Lilith—reclining regally—beckoned Meg over with a languid hand. Meg rose and settled back down at Lilith’s side. She flinched back a bit as Guy—warm-skinned and smiling—wiggled down beside her, placing a hand on her hip.

“You okay?” Guy asked.

“Yes,” Meg murmured. Because that’s what nest mates did. Took care of each other. Looked out for each other. Made things safe.

“Welcome home,” he said, his eyes falling shut and Meg smiled faintly and tried her best to relax and sleep. To not think about Casey and Lenore, outside and separate, and not in her arms.

This didn’t feel like home. It didn’t feel like home at all.


	6. Chapter 6

It was the first night of Meg's first performance for Lilith's Fayre. New place, new faces. There should be nerves, apprehension, but for Meg, everything paled in the face of anticipation. Hunger. She stood in front of the Fayre, unlit fans in her hands, ready. Every curve of her body revealed by the satiny red fabric of her skimpy costume, her delicate stockings and the bangles and baubles around her hips, neck and wrists. A Venus de Milo. A Venus fly trap.

 

People moved around her, going in and out of the tent. Slowly, in ones and twos, they stopped and hovered, watching and waiting. Her costume marked her as a performer, although she was motionless. Already, she could feel delicate curls of desire, of want and lust, drifting from the Fayre patrons. All directed at her. She waited.

 

The dance was nothing without the song.

Then Casey started the music--a low throbbing trance beat coming from deep inside the Fayre--and Lenore stepped forward with the propane torch to light the wicks on Meg's fans. There was the hiss and whoosh of flame, gasps from the crowd, and then Meg was wreathed in fire.

 

This was the moment where Meg truly existed.

 

Heat licked at her skin, both a kiss and a threat, and Meg began to weave her wands--twist of the wrist back and forth, hands drifting up and down--creating patterns of light in the darkness. She turned, spun, presented her back to the audience, and strutted inside the Fayre. The music surged from the main stage and Meg followed its call, moving through the press of patrons already inside, the light and the heat making people draw back, and then stagger forward. She was the Pied Piper and the crowd’s fascination drew everyone at Meg's back, scurrying after her, unwilling to miss a moment.

 

Meg mounted the stage, pausing to arch her back and twist the fans over her head, heat passing over her curls, and then she had solid wood under her feet, the beat of the music pumping up through her shoes, vibrating the muscles of her legs, like the whole world was a heartbeat. The room was dimly lit, and Meg and her fire stood out like a hellish beacon, promising delight and torment.

 

The light of her performance was now reflected back to her in a sea of famished eyes.

 

Meg twirled and twisted, her fans rotating in circles on her fingers, following the pulse of the music. Her arms undulated, then spread out, fans like wings, and she wound them up and down again, leaving patterns in the air, dragon or angel, some fiery creature everybody wanted to touch.

 

As the music came to its crescendo, she could feel it all. The pumping emotions spilling out of the crowd and around her, into her, sustaining and nourishing every atom. Here she was a goddess, Kali, angry and dangerous and adored, her skin pinking from the heat, sweat like jewels on her arms and face. They wanted her. They wanted to be her and they wanted to fuck her, and _yes, take me_ , Meg thought, putting every breath into her performance, straining her body to the limit _, take me and make me yours_. Every heartbeat, every wet cunt, every hard cock--a bountiful meal.

 

Meg closed her eyes as the flames licked close to her face and fed and fed.


	7. Chapter 7

“You were magnificent!” Casey exclaimed.

“Mm,” Meg agreed, eyes heavy, body flushed and wanting, still damp with sweat. She felt energized and yet exhausted. She flopped down on the bed in the back of the RV, then arched her back and spread her legs. Beside her, tucked into a ball, Lenore grumbled and pulled Meg’s purple blanket up to her ears. Dawn had already creeped up over the hills.

“Sexy girl,” Casey said admiringly. She slid a hand down the curve of Meg’s stomach and Meg moaned. “Everybody wanted you.”

“Shut up, you guys,” Lenore grumbled and Meg and Casey grinned at each other. “I want to sleep.”

“Think you can sleep, Meg?” Casey asked playfully.

“No,” Meg moaned. She reached out for Lenore, grasping her shoulder, then laughed as Lenore snorted and shrugged away Meg’s hand.

“Sleeping!”

“I guess you’re just stuck with little old me,” Casey whispered. “Unless I go back inside to the nest…”

Meg knew that Casey should. Or that Meg should go inside and find a place next to Lilith and help cement the bonds to their new nest. Use the energy she had harnessed with her performance and feed it back into the other demons. Let them touch and be touched.

She didn’t want to. Just as she had stepped out of the Fayre and felt eyes on her body—human men and women waiting for her, with hopeful and hungry eyes—and turned away. All that power and pleasure at her command and somehow, Meg didn’t want it.

Meg tugged at Casey and whined, and Casey smiled, plunging one hand inside Meg’s bright red costume. Meg was dripping wet and she arched her hips up, taking two fingers deep inside her body, writhing a bit at the sensation.

“Want it hard and fast?”

“Yes.”

Casey pumped her fingers in and out, thumb twisting at Meg’s clit, and it took nothing at all for Meg’s body to arch, orgasms popping like tiny, sparking firecrackers, making her belly roll and her hips jerk.

“Again!” Meg demanded and Casey kept her strokes hard and deep, fingers tugging deep with Meg’s cunt, and Meg clamped down, each convulsion sparking a need for more. Casey pulled out her two fingers and pressed in three, then four, and Meg gave a series of short, shock-y screams as she tumbled into another cascade of orgasms, wringing all the tension out of her body in a wave of pleasure.

“More,” Meg murmured as her eyes began to flutter shut. Her body was floating. She needed, still needed, but everything felt hazy and far away.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” Casey grumbled, as if she didn’t know. “So fucking selfish, Meg.”

“Mmm. More.”

“Goddammit. Fine. Go to sleep, you demanding harpy.”

Meg fumbled for Lenore, too wrung out to even roll on her side.

She slept restlessly and sometime later—perhaps afternoon by the quality of the light seeping in around the curtains—felt her legs nudged apart, her red satin bottoms tugged off, and Meg arched her hips up, still drowsy and wanting. She felt a cool weight settle between them and something hard nudge her open. Meg’s eyes fluttered open to the view of Lenore’s pale face, brows haughty and lips quirked in an almost smile. Then Lenore pushed her hips forward, sliding the rubber cock she was wearing deep inside Meg.

“Oh God.”

“You were pawing at me all day,” Lenore scolded lightly, snapping her hips viciously in contrast to her gentle words. “A disturbed vampire is a grumpy vampire.”

“You’re always grumpy. Oh! Oh, deeper. Push it deep.”

“You’re very wet, Meg. I can hear you, open and sloppy.”

“This is just what I needed,” Meg murmured, wrapping her legs around Lenore’s hips and using her heels to pull the vampire deeper. “Thank you.”

“Hello, I sprained a wrist for you and I don’t even get a thanks?” Casey grumbled sleepily. She turned on her side and watched as Lenore fucked so hard into Meg the bed shimmied.

“Get up here and I’ll thank you,” Meg offered, panting, licking her lips.

“Nope,” Casey said. “Next time I get to be the center of attention. I’m going to watch Lenore fuck you into next week and then you owe me.”

“Okay,” Meg said breathily and then Lenore snapped her hips and Meg clamped down, body shuddering with frenzy, as he came hard and fast.


	8. Chapter 8

The thing about a locked door, Meg thought to herself, was that the mystery behind it was irresistible. Both a bit marvelous and menacing—a secret. A lock seemed to say, “It’s not for you. It’s not for you, but I dare you.”

Nobody would have ever described Meg as a person who played by the rules.

Watching Lilith flitter in and out of the room for a week had Meg nearly mad with curiosity. Often Lilith was leading in a patron—human and usually rich, if their clothes were anything to judge by—but not many. Whatever Jimmy did was kept exclusive.

It wasn’t right to pry. The leader made the rules and the nest obeyed. But something deep in Meg’s gut told her she needed to know. She needed to be the one to see.

Meg was strong enough to twist off the padlock with a jerk of her wrist. But that was sloppy and conspicuous. Too easy. The ornate, old fashioned hairpin she wore as part of her costume was strong enough to withstand being wedged into the lock and jiggled until the tumblers gave way. It took a while—Meg darting glances behind her every few minutes—but finally the lock clicked open and Meg was easing her way into Jimmy’s room.

A couple overly-bright lights shown down on the bare space. It was much the same as the other rooms, a few rows of uncomfortable, wooden chairs and a small stage, low to the ground. Meg’s breath caught in her throat. Sitting on the stage, so still he almost blended into the shadows at the back of the room, was a man.

The man in the center of the room looked ordinary to the human eye. Slim build and dark tousled hair. Handsome face with a wide, full-lipped mouth. He was dressed in a button down shirt and slacks, no shoes or socks on his bare feet. But something about him was making the hair on the back of Meg’s neck stand at attention.

“What are you?” Meg stammered, but the man simply cocked his head to the side, as if she confused him. His eyes were large and very blue. And not quite human.

Demon sight. It added another layer to perception. Honestly, Meg didn’t much care to use it. There was something so primitive and delicious about relying on the five human senses. Like wandering blindfolded in a crowded room, groping the flesh of strangers. Taking a step to the side, blackening her eyes, and seeing beyond, made things unnecessarily complicated. Stark. But now Meg let her eyes darken, and looked with her demon gaze.

But to a demon’s gaze, the human body housed a larger being, an angel who fairly pulsed with the power of his grace. Four huge gray wings arched from his back, spilling onto the stage floor, intangible yet present. In the haze that surrounded the man’s human-seeming face Meg could just make out a glimmer of his four true faces, each one with its own stern expression.

An angel.

“Fucking hell!” Meg turned to run.

“Wait.”

Meg stumbled at the command, issued softly in a voice gritty and rough, then kept moving toward the door.

“It’s unlikely I can outrun an instrument of the Lord,” Meg replied, voice shaking. “But I’m going to take my chances anyway, thanks.”

“I won’t hurt you. I can’t.”

That same rumbly voice, almost scraping in its roughness. The angel didn’t sound as Meg might have suspected. No ominous, self-righteous tones or eyes flashing heavenly fire. She hesitated again.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“Don’t be afraid,” Meg exclaimed. “You’re a frigging angel standing in a demon nest! I’d pee my pants if I thought it would do any good!”

“I can’t hurt you. I can’t hurt anyone. Look. Look again, as you did before.”

Cold sweat trickling between her shoulder blades, Meg turned. She side-stepped again into her demon sight, eyes turning black. Thin twisting chains, as intangible as smoke, were sprouting from a simple bracelet on the angel’s wrist. The tendrils of smoke wrapped around his arm and up over his shoulders and chest, circling around the four dark wings. Magic. A binding.

“You’re bound by a spell,” Meg said, feeling her breathing calm. It was a spell she knew well, although magic had never been her forte. The angel had risen and stepped forward, arms at his sides.

“Yes.”

“You let someone bind you? Seriously? What, did they catch you napping?”

“Angels do not nap,” the angel said seriously, cocking his head. “But she did catch me somewhat unawares. I was on the beach, wounded.”

“Sounds like quite a story.”

“It is,” the angel replied, face brightening a bit. Then he said, almost shyly, “I could tell it to you.”

“Jimmy, is it?” Meg asked.

“No. That’s just what they’ve decided to call me. My name is Castiel.”

“And they thought ‘Jimmy’ was a better stage name?”

“I suppose I am trying to be covert. What is your name?”

“I’m Meg. And _Castiel_ is a better stage name,” Meg mused. “Well, if you’re not going to smite me you could at least buy me a drink before I get to hear your life story.”

Castiel frowned. “There is nothing to drink here. And I have no money.”

Meg rolled her eyes. He was terribly literal. She grabbed one of the rickety chairs and turned it around, straddling it and resting her chin on her forearms. “Okay, spill it.”

“Spill…it?”

“You. Beach. Spell. What happened?”

“I had a…disagreement with my brethren. A difference of opinion.”

“I thought angels didn’t get to have opinions,” Meg interrupted.

Castiel didn’t look offended. “I suppose not. Not usually. We’re generally of one mind. Creatures of faith and order. But I was…am tired. Filled with ennui.”

“Ennui. That sounds French. And lame.”

Castiel gave no reaction to her comments—as if angels were immune to sarcasm—and continued. “ _Bored_ isn’t quite the right word for what I felt. I was restless, yet unmotivated. I don’t quite know. There were rules and order and certainty and then…doubt.”

“Sounds normal enough. Mid-life crisis, fit of depression. Even an angel probably has the occasional crisis of faith.”

Castiel looked down at Meg, frowning. His eyes were very blue. “No, we don’t.”

“Lucifer did,” Meg pointed out and then instantly regretted it. At the mention of the name, Castiel’s grave face took on a devastated expression. “Sorry.”

“The host noticed my instability. They wanted to send me to be re-educated.”

“Angel brainwashing? Sounds dull.”

“Torture,” Castiel explained, lips tightened with suppressed emotion. “Regardless, I wouldn’t come to heel. There was a battle and I felt to Earth, landing on the beach.”

“And then what? Lilith captured you?”

“You misunderstand. It was a deal, between the two of us. I was injured.” Castiel unfurled his wings, an almost invisible vibration of air. Meg squinted back into demon sight and could see that the lowest left-hand wing was torn nearly clean through, tendrils of bluish light trickling sluggishly from the rent between the feathers. “Lilith offered to shield me from angelic sight with a spell. And here I am.”

“Sounds magnanimous,” Meg said, thinking. Demons weren’t the altruistic type. Castiel might think he’d found an ally, but nothing good could come from this situation. “So now you’re ‘Jimmy the Faith Healer’? That’s the deal? You get a hiding place in exchange for shilling for Lilith?”

“A wound of this magnitude takes time. I am earning my keep, as it were.”

“And then what?”

Castiel frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Well, take care and thanks for the story,” Meg said, standing and stretching her legs.

“You’re leaving?” The angel sounded plaintive.

“It’s probably not wise for me to stay,” Meg replied. More like suicidal, but she kept her tone light. “I’m not supposed to be in here. Lilith seems keen on keeping you a secret.”

“Yes, but…yes. Of course.”

Meg groaned internally. Castiel was staring at her with his kitten-blue eyes, looking bereft. Strays, Meg thought, as her heart gave a little pang. Getting attached to an angel who was hunted by the heavenly host and enslaved by demons would be a terrible mistake.

“Why would you want me to stay?”

“You seem interesting. I liked watching you dance.”

Meg hesitated. “When did you see me dance?”

Castiel tilted his head toward the wall. “It’s only a collection of molecules. It’s easy for me to discount them and look beyond.”

“Your second biggest superpower is ‘Peeping Tom’,” Meg laughed.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Liked seeing me dance, huh?” Meg cocked her hip and Castiel’s eyes followed the movement. “Checking me out doesn’t seem particularly angelic.”

Flustered, Castiel stammered, “I-I…”

“I’m teasing,” Meg assured him. Flirting with an angel was a terrible idea. She needed to stop. She would. In a moment.

“Others were watching,” Castiel argued, frowning his petulant frown.

“It was a performance,” Meg said. “And you can watch any time, Clarence.”

“Who?”

“It’s from a movie. It’s about a terribly earnest angel, a total rube,” Meg responded and sighed when the angel showed no recognition. “Never mind. I have to go.”

“But you’ll come back?” Castiel asked and this time Meg did groan aloud.

“I’ll come back,” Meg promised and Castiel smiled slightly.

“Next time just knock,” Castiel said. “I can unlock the door.”

“Lilith know that?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay, Castiel,” Meg said and she made to leave. As she opened the door, she made the mistake of looking back. Castiel had taken his seat on the stage again, hands clasped in his lap, prepared to wait alone in the monotonously empty room. He looked like an abandoned puppy and Meg felt a ridiculous, almost maternal spark, which made her stomach give a giddy lurch considering that the angel’s earthy form was hot as sin.

“Goodbye, Castiel.”

“Goodbye, Meg.”


	9. Chapter 9

Three days later Meg found herself standing in front of ‘The Amazing Jimmy’s’ door. The padlock that Meg had worked so hard to open and that Castiel had clicked closed with barely a flick of his power was intact, solid against the wood door. Amused, Meg lifted her hand and rapped out ‘Shave and a Haircut’ with her knuckles.

The padlock fell open and the door swung inward. Entering, Meg could see Castiel sitting in the same spot, hands patiently folded. His face brightened into a smile at her approach.

“You came back.”

“And it doesn’t look like you moved at all,” Meg responded, wrinkling her nose. “Where do you go when you’re done being ‘amazing’?”

“Here,” Castiel said. He was looking at Meg intensely, like a bird of prey. Meg got the feeling he would win a lot of staring contests. “Where else would I be?”

“I don’t know.” Meg thought about the airstream, about the nest at Lilith’s, about sitting under the pier. All places where she found some form of comfort. “They don’t have a room for you? Place for you to chill with some books and board games, maybe a TV?”

“Angels don’t require those things,” Castiel said, but he was frowning his familiar frown, the one that crinkled his forehead. “And anyway, I am filled with—“

“Ennui. Yeah, I got that. Boredom. Maybe you’re so bored because you have nothing to do.”

“I have a lot to do,” Castiel said. “I sit here and think about what I’ve done and what I must do.”

“Stewing in guilt and agonizing about the future, I’ve been there.”

“That’s not what I—“

“Let’s get out of here,” Meg interrupted.

“What?” Castiel stood up and stepped down off the stage, looking at her curiously.

“Go out. Let’s do something!”

“I’m not sure I’m allowed to do that.”

“Cas,” Meg said, and Castiel cocked his head at the ‘nickname,’ his eye contact still unbroken. “You’re an angel. You can open and close the lock to your room. Am I wrong in thinking you can walk out of here anytime?”

Castiel touched the bracelet on his wrist. He was close enough that Meg could see the iron chain, the suspended bead of amber dangling from it. The halonai incantation: Meg knew it worked best with direct commands.

“I can leave,” Castiel said softly. “But I promised I would stay.”

“It’s not like you’re leaving permanently,” Meg argued, smiling winningly. “Besides, this is what rebelling is all about. A little bit of harmless mischief, then back home before Mom and Dad wake up.”

“But who are my parents in this scenario?”

“C’mon, Castiel! Yes, or no?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, then smiled shyly, his eyes drifting down to blink slowly open and closed.

“Come, then.” Meg took Castiel’s hand. It was warm and a bit dry; it felt good when Castiel’s larger fingers folded around her own. “Can you fly us or…zap us out of here?” Meg took an indulgent moment to imagine dangling from Castiel’s arm high up in the sky, like he was Superman and she was Lois Lane.

“I’m afraid not.” Meg could almost hear the rasp of Castiel’s injured wing rustling.

“Very well, then the ‘fire exit’,” Meg said and tugged Castiel gently toward the door.

“Wait,” he said and hurried to the back of the stage, coming back with a tan object in his hands. “Lilith gave me a coat.”

Meg watched him shrug on the trench coat, the fabric flapping down past Castiel’s knees. “A coat but no shoes. Of course.”

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, Clarence,” Meg said, grinning, and Castiel took her hand again, smiling back.

**

Before long they were darting across the street and joining the crowd on the boardwalk. Meg felt her back ease as they were swallowed up by the shouting crowd, the flashing lights of the booths and rides, the smell of popcorn, the hum of life. Behind it all was the ambient sound of the ocean, tide rushing in a shushing sound along the sand. There was so much to see, but Meg kept her eyes on Castiel. His face was glowing with wonder like a child, and colored lights slide over his hair, making blue and orange highlights in his dark curls.

“Come on,” Meg shouted and tugged Castiel towards the merry-go-round. The ticket seller had a short line in front of his stall but Meg dipped and ducked through the crowd, pulling Castiel up onto the spinning platform as the ride continued to rotate. With no small amount of grace, Castiel had leapt up after her, hand around one carved wooden carousel horse for balance.

“What is this for?” Castiel asked, taking in with confusion the children balanced on the merry-go-round animals, teenagers coiled together, their legs dangling off the horses, laughing, the couples entwined here and there, kissing.

“Fun, Castiel,” Meg said, hopping up on a red and black horse. She pointed to the tiger next to her. “You sit here.”

Obediently, Castiel settled beside her on his tiger, reaching back to straighten the fall of his coat, as regal as the robe of a king.

“It’s the best seat to see everything. Well, the second best seat,” Meg explained and she settled back on the horse to people-watch. Depending on how Castiel handled the kiddie rides, she might take him on the rollercoaster. Looking out as the boardwalk spun by, fascinated, Castiel reached out and again took Meg’s hand. Trust and reassurance, already. Meg closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the sweet feeling of being needed. The emotions of the crowd pressed in on her, a balm of emotion. It was a feast she couldn’t enjoy—none of the delight was directed at her—until, suddenly, she felt a wave of admiration curl her way. Meg swallowed it down—a small, tantalizing snack—and flicked her eyes through the crowd. There! A girl in her late teens looked away and then back at Meg. Meg smiled broadly and waggled her fingers; the girl blushed.

“Do you know her?” Castiel asked, following Meg’s gaze.

“Nope.” Meg wasn’t sure how much her wide-eyed angel knew about the feeding habits of succubi, but she was in too good a mood to explain. “Just enjoy the ride, Clarence and then I’ll buy you a funnel cake.”

**

“I don’t like the popcorn,” Castiel said decisively.

“It gets stuck in your teeth,” Meg agreed. She was laying on the sand under the pier, her leather jacket a useful barrier against the chill of the sand. Full, she was so full of food she didn’t really need to sustain her. But eating was a pleasure she never passed up. Meg had expected Castiel to demur the offer of food. But he had readily agreed to try the carnival-type fare, enough that Meg had reached into her wallet and bought one of everything. Hands carrying bulging paper bags, they had made their way down to the beach to indulge.

Castiel had been indifferent to the Hawaiian ice, unsure about the hot dog, but had devoured the funnel cake, the hamburger and the cotton candy. He had eaten both sweet and savory with a small, pleased smile, the type of expression Meg was more used to seeing on a man sated after a night of pleasure, not an angel stuffing himself to the gills with fat and refined sugar.

“You don’t need to eat,” Castiel had said when they had first settled on the sand. He had immediately dug his toes in, wriggling them.

“No, not exactly.” Meg felt thirst and hunger. But she doubted very much that she could die from lack of food or drink. It wasn’t what fueled her.

“Then why?”

“Why anything,” Meg had answered. “Just because. That’s what life is. Pleasure where you can get it. Food tastes and feels good. Little pleasures keep us going.”

“And life is also pain,” Castiel had returned. The grave expression on his face had been ruined by the way he titled his head up and sniffed at the air.

“That goes without saying,” Meg had responded and reached into the bag, popping a French fry in Castiel’s surprised mouth. “But why focus on the inevitable? Pain is always there. Pleasure not so much, so grab it while you can.”

Castiel had chewed quietly then, lashes fluttering with pleasure.  

“Are there any more French fries?” Castiel asked politely and Meg jerked her mind back to the present. Her angel was pawing through the grease-stained bags, looking disappointed.

“No, Cas. This is the ‘pain’ part of the experience,” Meg said, smiling. Castiel sighed gustily and lay back on the sand beside her, looking up at the sky. His hand found hers and tucked their fingers together again. For a moment, they both looked up at the night sky. The stars were only there faintly—blocked out by light pollution.

“Looking at home?” Meg asked.

“That’s not really where Heaven is,” Castiel responded, still staring upward.

“Fine. Are you thinking about home?”

“It doesn’t feel like home. Not anymore. It feels like a place that fit another me, the one that no longer exists.”

“I’m sorry,” Meg said. She knew what that was like. Sometimes, it was a home that was taken away, changed by time and loss. Other times, it was a home that slowly turned sour, made strange and bitter by the people in it.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I know,” Meg said softly. “I suppose at some point though you’ll have to do something. You can’t just sit in Lilith’s little locked room and do stupid pet tricks.”

“I’m not a pet.”

 _You look just like one_ , Meg thought _, sitting in your chair, waiting for your master to come home_. But she didn’t say it out loud. Experience had taught her restraint.

“The sun will be up in a few hours,” Meg said instead. “I should go home.”

“So soon?” Castiel wasn’t whining, but it was close.

“I have people who will be worried,” Meg said, and then quietly cursed when she saw the hurt expression on Castiel’s face.

“But…you’ll come again? We can do this, again?”

“You can go out any time you like,” Meg evaded.

“It’s not the same. Not without you. You will come again?”

“Yes,” Meg answered. She stood, dusting the sand off her jeans. “I should go now. Can you make it back on your own? It might be better if I’m not seen returning to the Fayre.”

“Of course.”

Castiel stood as well, the sand trickling off his coat. He reached out and took Meg’s hand again, squeezed it gently, and then slowly pulled his own hand away.

“This is also the ‘pain’ part of the experience, isn’t it?” Castiel said.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a week later before Meg was able to rap on Castiel’s door again. The lock fell open and she pushed her way in. Then Meg blinked, mouth open, at the changes that had been made to the room.

One wall now had a low bookcase, on which Meg could see several books. On the stage, a small color television was sitting on a stool. It was turned on, and Meg could hear canned laughter. Castiel turned his head slightly and smiled at Meg when she approached, then went back to watching the screen with the same rapt expression Meg had seen him only previously direct at fried food.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Meg,” Castiel murmured, barely lifting his eyes from the screen. “I thought about what you said. I talked to Lilith and asked for a few things and now I have television!” He sighed. “It is truly a wonder.”

“Did you tell her about me?” Meg asked sharply.

Castiel rolled his eyes. Meg wasn’t even aware that he knew how to do that. “Of course not.”

“What are you watching?”

“It is this situation comedy called ‘Friends’,” Castiel said excitedly. “It is about six friends. They live in New York City and have very amusing lives. Monica is my favorite!”

“How long have you been watching?” Meg asked warily.

“This show is almost always on,” Castiel replied, confused.

“It’s the summer, it’s in re-runs,” Meg explained, wincing a bit at the idea of Castiel vegging out on vapid television for hours. Of course, staring at a blank wall and feeling melancholy wasn’t necessarily an improvement. “Okay, you’re cut off.” She reached out and switched off the television.

“Phoebe was just about to sing a song!” Castiel protested.

“Do you want to hang out or not?”

“You could watch with me,” Castiel said slyly.

“Not my type of show,” Meg replied. She walked over to the bookcase and examined the titles. An extravagant amount of lurid romances, with the hero ripping the bodice off the heroine on the cover. But knowing what Meg knew about the tastes of Lilith’s nest mates, probably not too surprising.

“And I have these,” Castiel said, showing Meg a deck of cards and a book.

Meg took the book and examined the cover. _101 Ways to Play Solitaire._

“Oh, that is just too sad,” Meg murmured. Castiel sitting alone, watching junk television and reading romances and playing cards all by himself. If the dictionary included a picture of ‘loneliness’, Meg was pretty sure it would look like that. “You’re coming with me?”

“More funnel cakes?”

“Not exactly. You obviously need an education in fun.”

“Angels know how to have fun,” Castiel protested. “Some of my brethren are the quite amusing.”

Meg stared at Castiel until, miracle of miracles, he broke eye contact first.

“Right then,” Castiel said eagerly. “Should I get my coat?”

“Yes. Get your coat,” Meg sighed.

**

“Sorry!” Casey sang out as she bumped Castiel’s game piece off the board.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think you are.”

“It’s the rules,” Lenore said primly, taking Casey’s side. It was to be expected. For most of the past two hours, Castiel had been winning.

Meg had expected the introduction between Castiel, Lenore and Casey to be more awkward. After all, he was a being of goodness and light and they were creatures of the darkness. Even though Meg had told them all about meeting Castiel and taking him to the beach, a story was not the same as an angel standing before you in all his glory. Meg had expected some cowering at minimum, but Casey had walked up to Castiel, looked him up and down, and said, “He seems nice. Now let’s get wasted.”

Currently, they were sitting in the airstream, parked a street down from the nest. They had started out playing poker, which had quickly lost its appeal when Cas caught on quickly and won hand after hand. With his low voice and steady eye contact, he was surprisingly good at bluffing.

Casey had gone back to Lilith’s house and liberated a few board games, and now they were playing ‘Sorry’, a game that was more about chance than talent.

“Another beer?” Meg asked.

“I don’t like the taste,” Castiel replied, wrinkling his nose. He had eaten all the potato chips.

“Now’s a good as time as any to crack open more of Crowley’s whiskey,” Casey replied and got up, tugging her tank top back down over the smooth expanse of her belly. Meg’s eyes followed the movement and when she glanced back at Castiel, she found him watching her with a curious expression.

“Should I mix it with soda?” Casey asked, reaching up to hook the bottle from the cabinet.

“No. Cas here should try the good stuff straight,” Meg said, raising an eyebrow as Castiel continued to stare at her. “Problem?”

He blurted, “I thought this was a date.”

Casey fumbled the whiskey bottle, nearly dropping it. Lenore suddenly found the ceiling interesting.

Meg chuckled, but not meanly. “Where did you learn about dating?”

“From ‘Friends’.”

“Oh boy,” Lenore murmured.

“Is this not a date?” Cas asked, his voice small.

“Demons don’t really date,” Meg said bluntly. “We live in big hump-happy nests. Flowers and dinner doesn’t really play into it.”

“So Casey and Lenore are…”

“Happy humpers,” Lenore muttered quietly, lips curving up. Casey flopped down beside her, and appraised Cas with glinting eyes.

“What do you want, Castiel?” Casey purred, long fingers dancing along the surface of the whiskey bottle. She leaned forward, brushing into Cas’s personal space.

“I-I…”

“A kiss?”

“Okay, time out,” Meg interrupted. “Just give the angel a break. He just started learning about life on Earth and I have to say not necessarily from the best possible sources. Cas, you having fun?”

“Yes.”

“More snacks? More games?”

“More unresolved sexual tension?” Lenore murmured.

“Let’s play a game,” Casey announced and Meg groaned at the naughty glint in her fellow demon’s eye. Casey shifted the board game to the side and snagged an empty beer bottle from the table. She placed it on the floor between the four of them and gave it a spin.

“Oh, come on,” Meg groaned, but she was smiling.

“What is this game?” Castiel asked, looking down at the bottle suspiciously, as if it might spring to life or explode.

“You spin the bottle,” Casey explained. “And whoever it lands on, that’s the person you have to kiss.”

Castiel swallowed hard. “Oh.”

“Observe,” Lenore said primly and Meg rolled her eyes. If Casey and Lenore were on the same team, Meg didn’t stand a chance. Lenore deftly rolled the bottle with her fingertips and it rattled around to point at Meg. The vampire leaned in to plan a soft, chaste kiss at the corner of Meg’s mouth.

“That’s all I get?” Meg groused.

“My turn,” Casey said and spun the bottle. Again it landed on Meg. Casey leaned in gingerly, but at the last minute she met Meg mouth to mouth in a hungry lunge. Meg gasped as Casey licked deep, filthy, pulling away to suck at Meg’s lower lip before letting go with a loud smack. “Get it, Cas?”

Meg looked dazedly over at the angel. She expected a blush on his lean cheeks, or perhaps his eyes shyly averted. Instead, he was squinting at her, as if everything unfolding before him was an interesting science experiment. And perhaps, in deference to his outside observer status, it was.

Castiel spun the bottle. It landed on Meg.

“Why am I so lucky?” she murmured.

“This section of the floor slants,” Casey laughed. “Crowley always meant to get it fixed.”

Cas leaned in. Meg was expecting tentative, fumbling exploration. Instead, he took command of her mouth, one hand tangled in her dark hair, the other cupping her neck. His lips were dry, cool, and the controlled, possessive way he pressed inside her mouth made her stomach swoop. His tongue slipped in to tangle and stroke hers, and then he was pulling away with one last cool caress of his lips.

“Mm,” Meg purred.

Lenore laughed softly. “Angel has skills.”

“What is next?” Castiel asked eagerly and Meg reached out to slap a hand over Casey’s mouth as she began to answer.

“No orgy for the beginner,” Meg said and snatched up the whiskey bottle. She gulped down a draught, letting it burn down her throat, then smacked her lips, still tingling from Castiel’s kiss.

“What’s an orgy?”

“Drink this,” Meg evaded and handed Castiel the whiskey. He sniffed at the top of the bottle and then sneezed.

“What was that?” he asked.

“A sneeze. Don’t sniff it. Drink it.”

He took it and drank deep, as if it were water.

“You like?”

“It’s sweet but…stinging, at the same time,” Castiel said thoughtfully. He looked at Meg and smiled. “It’s a lot like you.”

Casey chuckled. “Okay Meg, get up. Give Cas your spot.”

Castiel settled in the spot Meg vacated, fluffing out his coat to either side, the gesture reminding Meg of the preening of a large raptor. He folded his hands in his lap and looked at the three women expectantly.

“You okay with this?” Lenore asked, her eyes on Castiel, but her shoulder was angled toward Meg.

“Do we need to have a discussion?” Meg asked Lenore, frowning.

“Depends on whether or not he sticks around,” Lenore replied, a bit frostily and Meg rubbed her neck, knowing there _was_ a discussion coming soon and she wasn’t going to like it.

“I’m okay,” Castiel said, head pinging back and forth between the two of them.

“It’s just a game,” Casey interjected. She spun the bottle. It landed on Castiel, of course. She leaned in and gave him a melting kiss, warm and tender, before leaning back with a satisfied smile.

Lenore spun the bottle. She leaned into Cas and kissed him slow and deep. Meg narrowed her eyes as Lenore kept the kiss going, wet and unhurried, penetrating deep into Castiel’s mouth and forcing him to open for her. Exactly the way Lenore knew Meg liked to be kissed. When Lenore finally pulled back, Meg’s angel was blinking rather dazedly.

“That’s nice,” he murmured.

Meg leaned in, not even bothering to spin. Castiel’s lips were still slick and wet and she pressed her mouth to his, nibbling gently across his lower lip. Not pressing her tongue inside in a way that might tempt a vampire’s bloodlust.

She kissed him the way she would kiss Lenore.

“Oh my God,” Casey groaned. “I live with the biggest assholes. Castiel, you need to go home.”

“What?” Cas said, eyes still dark and hazy from kissing.

“Go home,” Casey insisted. “You can continue your tutorial some other time. Go.”

Castiel blinked in confusion, but obediently stood. He looked over his shoulder at Meg as he exited the RV.

“Okay, have it out,” Casey said once the three of them were alone.

“What?” Meg shot back defensively.

“Have your dumbass fight or I will go sleep with the nest. Go!”

“What are you doing, Meg?” Lenore asked seriously. She stared at Meg, eyes large and penetrating, and Meg squirmed.

“Nothing!”

“This is dangerous,” Lenore responded, and when Meg shot a look at Casey, searching for support, Casey shrugged and turned her back, giving them the illusion of a more intimate conversation. “You’re putting us all in danger, again.”

“I like the guy,” Meg muttered. “We’re just hanging out.”

“I like him, too,” Lenore answered, surprising Meg, “but he’s tied up with Lilith. I’m not looking for trouble, which is exactly what we’ll get the more time we spend with him.”

“I know that!”

“I’m still pretending not to be here,” Casey interrupted. “But I agree with Lenore. Castiel’s nice. But you bust in on Lilith’s angel habitat, liberate her pet, and risk pissing her off. This isn’t just for fun. This is serious. Okay, now talk to each other and leave me alone.”

“Meg, what do you want?” Lenore asked tiredly. “What are we doing here? If you want to stay, we have to toe the line.”

“You don’t like it here?” Meg asked, but she already knew the answer.

“They don’t like me,” Lenore answered, sighing. “They never like me. I’m not allowed in the house. I’m not allowed to sing at the Fayre. I’m constantly watched and insulted. But you knew that already.”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry you can’t leave,” Meg whispered, toying with the charm on her bracelet.

“That’s not the point. You already have one ‘possession,’ now you’re looking to take someone else’s?”

“That’s out of order,” Casey interrupted, no longer content to pretend she was deaf and invisible and to her credit, Lenore flinched guiltily.

“I thought we’d settled this. Do we need to talk about it again?” Meg asked.

“It either means something or it doesn’t,” Lenore argued.

“Me and Cas, or me and you?” Meg shot back.

“Get out,” Lenore said flatly.

Casey frowned. “Lenore—“

“No. This is my home. My only home. Go back to the nest. I want to be alone. Both of you get out.”


	11. Chapter 11

When Meg eased into Castiel’s room a few days later, she cocked an amused brow at the raunchy, pumping music issuing from Castiel’s tiny television. The angel was leaning forward in his chair, face rapt.

“Where did you get the porn, Clarence?”

“Lilith,” Castiel said, eyes still on the screen. “I told her I wanted to see what sex was like.”

“Then _why_ are you watching porn, Castiel?” Meg wondered what Lilith was making of all Castiel’s sudden requests.

“I’m continuing my education,” he replied, hands clasped and body arched toward the screen. “This is more than the kissing. But I’m confused.”

Meg came up on the stage and squinted at the screen. A woman clearly in her late thirties with her hair done up in pigtails was getting a dick slapped across her face by a greasy-looking man dressed in a generic pizza delivery uniform.

“Yeah, that’s terrible,” Meg replied. “Cas, let me give you a tip. Don’t look to porn for your sexual education needs. It’s just going to make you a terrible and selfish lover. Nobody really wants to be slapped with a dick. Doesn’t feel good for the dick or the person being slapped with it. Turn that shit off.”

“You’ll teach me?” Castiel asked, turning to look at Meg. He smiled a bit shyly.

“We need to talk,” Meg answered. “But not here. I thought ‘Friends’ was bad enough. Turn that off and let’s get out of here.”

**

“Kissing you made Lenore unhappy,” Castiel said.

They were sitting under the pier again, watching the sun set. Meg sighed and stretched her arms over her head.

“Not exactly.”

“I’m…confused.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“I don’t want to upset anyone,” Castiel said woefully. “I like Lenore and Casey.”

“Even though we’re evil creatures of the night?”

“You don’t seem evil to me,” Castiel responded and Meg’s mind went briefly, guiltily, to the drained bodies of two men left to rot in their pickup. To all the bodies left behind over the years, when care and control had failed. The best intentions and the most tragic results.

“I met Lenore decades ago,” Meg explained. “She was…how much do you know about the halenoi spell?”

“This one?” Castiel considered the bracelet on his wrist. “I know what it does. It hides me from sight.”

“Yes. Which is useful. Vampires are feared and hunted, nearly extinct. With the bracelet on, Lenore almost ceases to exist. She can’t be hunted, tracked. A hunter could stand in the same room with her and his eyes would just slide right past. But the person who wears it can be commanded by the one who placed the spell. Compelled. Enslaved.”

“Why did you do that to Lenore?” Castiel asked.

“I didn’t. A demon named Ruby did. Most of us aren’t really magic users. But for a few succubi, there are spells that we find useful. I…forced Ruby to transfer the spell. Couldn’t get her to break it.”

“Where is Ruby now? Did you kill her?”

“No,” Meg said curtly. She wished she had. But the respect and connection she had always had with her nest mates had always stayed her hand. She hadn’t killed a fellow demon. Until Crowley.

“I’m confused,” Castiel sighed.

“The spell doesn’t matter,” Meg replied, although it did. “It’s what we’re doing. Sneaking around behind Lilith’s back, getting…attached. We’ve all said a lot of goodbyes. The idea that you might come to mean something to me, to us, and then having to leave…Lenore wouldn’t like it. Vampires prefer stability.”

Meg didn’t say anything about how she wouldn’t like it if she had to say goodbye to Castiel. She looked forward to the time she had to spend with him. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about. Since she’d taken Lenore on, she’d left nest after nest when things had gone sour. Only Casey had ever come with her. Lenore couldn’t leave her and Casey wouldn’t—for her own unspoken reasons—and now Meg looked at Cas and realized that even if he could break Lilith’s spell, she had no idea how he felt. He was adrift in a new purposeless life, away from everything he’d ever known. Just because Meg could show him a good time didn’t mean it meant anything.

“Is this the end?” Castiel said, intruding on Meg’s thoughts. “You don’t want to come see me anymore?”

“Lilith can provide you with any number of amusements, Clarence,” Meg said flippantly.

“Lilith isn’t you,” Castiel said, taking Meg’s hand.

“A demon is a demon.”

“No. I like you. Can I kiss you again?” His intense gaze was very, very blue.

God, Meg wanted it, too. She tilted her chin, and Castiel took her silence, the parting of her lips, as assent. He swooped down, that same effortless command, as if he’d been kissing all his life. Meg gripped his coat in her hands and swayed into the warmth of his body, lean and hard against her own.

“Is it because of jealousy?” Castiel murmured into her mouth. “Is it because you and Lenore are a couple? And Casey. Or Lenore and Casey? You know, on ‘Friends’—“

“Castiel,” Meg whispered into his mouth. “Shut up and kiss me.”

He did. Meg let herself get lost in it, the movement of his mouth over her own, his full lips just a little rough, as if chapped by flying through the cold expanses of the sky. She let her hands drift over his shoulders, feeling where intangible wing joined flesh and pressed her nails down through his clothes, digging into his skin. He made a soft, shocked sound into her mouth.

“It isn’t jealousy,” Meg said after several long, delicious minutes. She pulled back and looked at her angel. His pupils were blown wide, eyes almost all black, like an owl, and he was breathing heavily.

“Maybe it is,” Castiel said.

“We’re not exactly monogamous,” Meg said, smirking.

“I mean, you and I are out here and Lenore is not. We’re on a date. This is a date, right?”

“Sure, Cas, this is a date.”

“When did you last take Lenore on a date?”

“I never have,” Meg said, frowning. She had been tingling, her breasts feeling heavy with desire, and now she felt that wave of guilt and regret like a dousing of icy water. “It’s not like that.”

“Why not?”

“We’re around each other constantly,” Meg argued. “The three of us are usually trying to give each other space, not the other way around. Lenore likes her solitude.” And there was the spell. Lenore couldn’t walk away from their relationship, even if she wanted to.

“We should go see her,” Castiel replied and began to tug Meg back up the beach. “I feel better when I see you. Less lonely. Maybe that will make Lenore feel better, too.”

Lenore was in the trailer. Meg couldn’t remember ever wondering if Lenore might not be waiting inside, couldn’t think of a time when she had popped her head in and the vampire had been ‘out’ on an errand or even just a walk for the pleasure of it. Lenore didn’t even look up as they entered; continuing to write in the new journal Meg had bought her.

“Still mad?”

“What do you two want?” Lenore asked, because even though she hadn’t looked up, she knew Castiel was there as well. Meg took a subtle sniff. She didn’t smell or sense anything from him. Did Lenore hear the blood pumping in his veins? Did an angel’s circulatory system even work that way?

“Cas thought…I thought…would you like to go for a walk on the beach with us?”

“Really?” Lenore lifted her dark head, her fountain pen ceasing its scratching. She pinned Meg with a gaze.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Oh,” Meg said.

“Why not?” Castiel asked blithely, perfectly willing to step into a conversational minefield.

Lenore put down her pen and gave Castiel a look. Meg thought that perhaps when it came to staring, Lenore could give the angel a run for his money.

“Well, to begin with, I don’t feel particularly safe in this town. Apparently it’s bad for vampires.”

“You have your charm!” Meg interrupted. “You’re safe against harm.”

“Safe against people trying to kill me,” Lenore corrected, “Not safe against harm. Which brings me to my next reason: I’m living adjacent to a nest of demons who hate my guts—“

“Has someone been threatening you?”

“Additionally, it wouldn’t be suitable for Meg’s dirty little secret to be seen out and about.”

“Goddammit, Lenore,” Meg muttered.

“But above all, I just don’t want to.” Having delivered her verbal put-down, Lenore turned serenely back to her journal.

There was an uneasy silence for a few moments and Meg stood in the RV, wavering between feeling humiliatingly furious and heart-achingly sad.

Then Cas said, “If you don’t want to come out, we will keep you company here.”

“I want to be alone,” Lenore hissed.

“No,” Castiel replied just as Meg took his arm, preparing to tug him away. “You’re lonely. Lonely and sad and angry about both. You’re pushing us away because you really want us to come closer.”

Lenore looked at Meg, startled, a tear dripping down one pale, soft cheek.

“I know a little bit about when ‘no’ means ‘yes’,” the angel continued. “The porno I was watching was very enlightening in that regard.”

“Oh my God,” Meg yelped.

“He was watching porn,” Lenore asked, smiling a bit, wiping away her tear. “Castiel, you were watching porn?”

“Yes.”

“Because?”

“Because…” Castiel floundered then, a dash of red rising on each cheek. “For Meg.”

“This is the strangest mating dance I have ever witnessed,” Lenore said. “Fried food and pornography.” She put down her pen and closed her journal. “Alright, Castiel. You want to have sex with Meg?”

“This is so embarrassing,” Meg muttered, face flushing.

“It’s the natural progression of a romantic relationship,” Castiel replied, head cocked in confusion. “On ‘Friends’—“

“She’s not embarrassed,” Lenore countered. “She’s practically preening. Center of our universes. And I’m somewhat of an expert when it comes to fucking her. Castiel, do you want to see?

“Yes,” Castiel answered promptly.

“Wait, what? Don’t I get a say?” Meg asked.

“Are you going to say ‘no’?” Lenore asked, arching an eyebrow. “I can smell you. You like the idea very much.”

Meg did. It didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling embarrassed though. The attention, the tight spiral of desire in her stomach, was better than a shot of whiskey and just as potent. The idea of Lenore showing Castiel what Meg liked was sending heat prickling across her skin.

“Fine,” Meg muttered.

“Doing us a favor then, are you?” Lenore asked. She stood up and went to a cabinet, fetching down a decorated shoe box. “Lucky for me I had nothing planned for the evening.”

Castiel loomed over Lenore, peering at the box. It had the name ‘Meg’ painted across the top in red, shiny ink, little doodles and swirls surrounding the name. Meg knew that sometimes Lenore would add little snippets or songs, or poems, or her own writing, little tokens of affection marching in black ink across the surface of the box.

“What’s inside?” Cas asked.

Lenore flipped the lid. “My cock.”

It was a simple strap-on and harness, perhaps a bit on the generous side, but Meg had always been a bit of a size queen. God, her panties were getting wet just looking at the thing, some perverted Pavlovian response.

If Lenore was expecting to shock the angel, she received no satisfaction. If anything, Castiel looked relieved. “This is good.”

“Why is that, Clarence?” Meg asked, smirking.

Castiel shrugged. “I already have one of those.”

Lenore actually grinned and opened her mouth but Meg cut her off. “This is _not_ a competition.”

“Of course not,” Castiel said innocently.

“Absolutely,” Lenore added and Meg swallowed a groan. “Well, take your clothes off and hop on the bed.”

Meg stripped down eagerly and lay back on the bed on her back. She expected her angel to turn his gaze, or to fumble with his coat, but Castiel keep his eyes on her as he removed each item of clothing efficiently before clambering up beside her. For some reason, Meg had been expecting him to be pale, glowing, like an ancient marble sculpture, something inspired and holy. But Castiel revealed a lean, toned body, taut and olive-skinned, as pleasing and earthy as any human male Meg had indulged with. Lenore stripped down to her underwear and stepped into her harness. Castiel watched with fascinating as she secured it to her hips, the cock jutting out unyieldingly from Lenore’s softer, curvier flesh.

“You don’t take off all your clothes?” Castiel asked.

“No,” Lenore said shortly. Meg sighed a bit, remembering the rare times she had been skin to skin with Lenore, had cupped a full, soft breast in her hand.

“Now,” Lenore instructed as she climbed up onto the bed. Meg spread her legs eagerly for Lenore to slot between. Already, she was hungry for it. “It doesn’t take much to get Meg warmed up. Foreplay need not apply. I’m convinced she must walk around hot and hungry for cock all day long. See, next to nothing, really, she’s almost always ready for it.” And Lenore nudged Meg between the legs, rubber cock nosing into Meg’s folds and Meg groaned, feeling how open and wet she was already.

“I see,” Castiel whispered.

“You make me sound like a slut,” Meg complained, but then betrayed herself with a hungry jerk of her hips.

“Uh-uh,” Lenore scolded when Meg lifted her hips. The vampire drew back and Meg whined, but let Lenore grip Meg’s hips and hold her still. “So the next thing to decide is, in what position do I want to fuck Meg? On her back is nice.” Lenore pushed in, just an inch, feeding her cock into Meg in just the smallest way, and Meg bucked her hips in Lenore’s hold.

“But she’s equally nice like this,” Lenore said and rolled to swing Meg up to straddle the vampire’s waist. Meg couldn’t help herself. She reached down between her wide spread knees and gripped the cock, pushing it shallowly inside herself and rocking in short little jerks, panting. “Get to watch those titties bounce. You like tits, Castiel?”

Castiel swallowed hard. “They’re very…pleasing.”

“Not yet, you shameless thing,” Lenore murmured to Meg and pulled out. Meg whimpered at the loss. She let herself be pushed over, landing on her hip, then rising to her hands and knees with Lenore’s urging.

“But this, I think, you will like,” Lenore continued as she rose up on her knees behind Meg. “Primal. Animal. Dirty. And you can go so deep. She likes it deep.”

Meg opened her mouth to offer some retort, or perhaps to beg, but before she could speak Lenore was pressing inside her, sliding slick and smooth until her hips were flush against the rise of Meg’s ass. All that came out of Meg’s mouth was a breathy moan.

“Nice and slow,” Lenore instructed. “Deep stokes. Watch.”

Meg gave herself over to the sensation. The cock tunneling inside her, stretching her, rubbing her inner walls and spreading fire in her belly. The gentle bite of Lenore’s nails gripping her hips, the brush of Lenore’s belly and breasts as she bent on an outstroke to press a kiss between Meg’s shoulder blades.

“She likes it for a really long time. I hope you can keep up.”

Meg looked up and saw Castiel watching with his raptor’s gaze. His cock was flushed and hard between his legs, pretty and mouth-watering but entirely banal. Meg wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. A shaft of glowing blue light? What would a lordly penis even look like? Meg snorted with laughter at the thought and then gasped as Lenore gave a hard snap of her hips.

“Boring you?”

“No,” Meg panted. “Get over here, Cas.”

Castiel knee-walked gracefully around to kneel near Meg’s face. His cock was nearly at eye-level, bead of wetness at the tip and Meg watched as Castiel gripped himself and stroked lightly up and down, almost gingerly, as if the cock in his hand wasn’t even his own.

“No sex in heaven?”

“I lack a physical body on the heavenly plane,” Castiel explained, chest heaving as he stroked with more confidence. “When I created this form as an act of will, I did not expect it to be so…sensitive. It almost hurts. Do you feel that way as well?”

“Mm,” Meg murmured. She had adjusted enough to be able to push back onto Lenore’s thrusts, the head of the cock rubbing against the front of her inner walls with each stroke, the ach-y tension building deliciously. “Hurts so good, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes.”

Castiel looked down at his own cock, then at Meg’s face, and hesitated. Meg almost giggled as she picked up his train of thought.

“You want to do it, don’t you?”

“Do what?” Lenore asked, rolling her hips. Meg peeked over her shoulder. Despite Lenore’s attempts to remain aloof from the experience, the snap of her hips was nudging her clit with each stroke and her eyes were glazed with desire. She might come or she might not, Meg knew. Lenore guarded every bit of herself, as if an orgasm was something her partner was stealing, rather than giving to her.

“Go ahead.”

“You’re sure?” Castiel asked dubiously.

“Slap me with your dick, Clarence.”

Meg expected more hesitation, but Castiel shifted his hips, adjusted his grip, and let his cock swing with a firm smack against Meg’s cheek. It left a damp kiss of wetness on her skin and Meg arched an eyebrow.

“Well?”

“What the hell kind of porno was he watching?” Lenore asked.

“It was…okay,” Castiel said clinically. “There is something satisfying, I suppose, on an animal level—“

“Do it again.”

“Pardon?”

“Do it again,” Meg repeated, but when Cas tried Meg turned her head and caught the tip of his dick in between her lips. He gasped as she opened wide, struggling forward to take it all inside her mouth, licking at the head and sliding up and down the shaft.

“Oh!”

“You’re in trouble now,” Lenore murmured and she bent to cover Meg’s body with her own, hands drifting down to pinch and pull at Meg’s nipples. Meg let out a throaty yelp around the flesh in her mouth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been stuffed at both ends—those brothers in Chicago perhaps—and she let her eyes flutter shut in pleasure as she mouthed at Castiel’s cock. He quickly caught on and was soon thrusting into her mouth, matching Lenore stroke for stroke as if he’d been made for this. She opened her eyes and looked up, taking in the wrecked expression on her angel’s face—lust, wonder and agony chasing each other across his features. Meg flushed all over at the feeling of power it gave her, surging forward to swallow her angel down and shoving back to drive her ass against Lenore’s hips, taking them both, taking control.

“I…I feel,” Cas muttered, then his hips stuttered and he was flooding Meg’s mouth with salt. She shivered as he came, his cock jerking in her mouth and she tumbled over the edge with him, a string of explosions starting deep inside her and radiating out along her skin in waves. Behind her, Lenore gave a short, muted gasp and her rhythm stuttered as she came too. Meg drifted away, high on their pleasure and her own.

When Meg came back to the present, Lenore was extricating herself gently and Meg flopped over on her back and put her head down next to Castiel’s. Her angel was still breathing heavily, but he reached out and threaded his fingers with hers. Meg fumbled out a hand for Lenore and miracle of miracles, the vampire linked their hands and pressed a soft kiss to the back of Meg’s hand.

“So how was it?” Meg asked Castiel.

“It was—“

“A cosmic explosion?” Lenore interrupted, teasing. “A whirl of unfathomable energy, building deep inside you, like a universe being born within your skin?”

“Like a sneeze,” he said. “A really long, good sneeze.”

Meg laughed.

Casey banged open the door and strode into the trailer. “Hey Lenore--”

She paused and took in the sprawled forms of Castiel, Meg and Lenore. “Oh, you fuckers.”


	12. Chapter 12

“So what’s the plan?” Casey asked.

“Why do you think there has to be a plan?” Meg answered. She was sitting on the roof of the RV, looking down the hill at the ocean. It was early morning and the nest was asleep. Meg was supposed to be in the house with them.

“You’re right, we normally just rush in half-cocked and make a mess out of everything.”

“Are we talking about Cas?”

“We’re talking about Cas,” Casey confirmed. “And thanks for leaving me out of the orgy, even though it was MY idea, you greedy monster.”

“He’s not _un_ happy,” Meg said, ignoring Casey’s mention of what she had shared with Lenore and Cas. “It’s not like he’s really being held against his will. He and Lilith have an agreement.”

“Meg.”

“We can just…continue things the way they are.”

“ _Meg_.”

“ _What_?”

“Lilith isn’t going to be happy with things the way they are.”

“Why? Because she doesn’t want him going to the beach and getting head?”

“Because she warned us away from him,” Casey said patiently. “Her secret healing act probably brings in more in a day than you make in a month. No offense. He can heal anything. People can be desperate when they need a miracle. And all that envy and gratitude directed straight at Lilith must be heady as well for her to consume. Money and energy all in one tidy package.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Meg muttered. “I’m not interested in stealing her meal ticket.”

“As if I ever thought that was your motivation.”

“Hey, I like money as much as the next girl.”

Casey frowned. She put her arm around Meg’s shoulder and Meg leaned into the embrace with a sigh.

“I like him.”

“Of course you do, dummy,” Casey replied gently. “So do I. Decisions need to be made. You’re not going to be able to stop seeing him. Are we running away with him into the sunset or are we saying goodbye here and moving on? Could you leave him now? Could you leave any of us?”

“That’s not the issue,” Meg evaded. Demons were magpies by nature. They didn’t let things go easily. Things. _Things_. These were Meg’s people, not pretty trinkets. “Why would he even want to go with us?”

“He looked at your ass and saw God.”

“Be serious.”

“Hello, have you seen how sad his life is?”

“And a road trip with the three of us will be an improvement? He had a place. A purpose. He was a soldier of heaven.”

“He’s not anymore.”

“I know,” Meg snapped, frustrated. “But he had a reason to exist. He had light and glory. He’s trading it in for a cheap screw and a handful of beer nuts. It’s not what he needs.”

“You’re always trying to give us what you think we need,” Casey said. “But we don’t. We don’t need it. We don’t even want it. We have everything we need right here. You.”

Meg looked down, cheeks pink, shocked into silence by the pleasure that Casey’s words gave her.

“So go get him, tiger.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” Meg said.

“And don’t refer to yourself as a ‘cheap screw’ again, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re much more of a ‘trashy lay’.”

Meg laughed. “Fuck off, Casey.”


	13. Chapter 13

Meg knocked on Castiel’s door. Her stomach was in knots. She wasn’t sure how she was going to convince Castiel to leave, to welch on his agreement with Lilith. If he even wanted to come. Meg wasn’t sure what she would do if he said ‘no.’ She couldn’t just pretend she’d never met him and dance at the fair, with Castiel waiting patiently in his room, Lillith’s lonely angel. Meg would have to leave. And it would tear something inside her in two to do so.

But whatever Meg might have said died in her throat as she entered the room and took in the sight of Lilith.

“Not much gets by me, Meg,” Lilith said. She was standing on the stage next to Castiel, her hand resting casually on his shoulder. “This ends. No more little sleepover visits with my angel.”

“He’s not yours,” Meg said. “And he doesn’t belong in a cage.”

Lilith laughed. “He has everything he needs here. Even some things I might never expected an angel to want. Well, I have demons enough he will find pleasing, if sex is what he wants. I might even be tempted to provide. You and Casey and your filthy leech can hit the road.”

“He’s not staying here.”

“Oh, Meg,” Lilith sighed. She jangled the bracelet dangling from her arm. “It doesn’t work that way. He stays here and makes me rich and does what I say. That’s how the spell works. And even so, he doesn’t want to go with you anyway.”

“Cas?” Meg looked at her angel. He was sitting quietly in his chair, seemingly undisturbed. Meg’s heart clenched. A few short weeks spent showing Castiel life’s small, mean pleasures, how could that compare to millennia of angelic purity and purpose? After losing his faith and his brothers, could Castiel possibly be satisfied with riding around in a cramped trailer, chasing the horizon for the next distraction?

Was her life—selfish and purposeless—any better than sitting alone in Lilith’s Fayre?

“I want to go with Meg,” Castiel said finally and Meg felt a grin spread over her face.

Lilith frowned. “What happened to atoning and penance and…stuff?!”

“If he’s looking to suffer, I can make that happen,” Meg drawled, eyes on Cas.

“The pleasure and the pain,” Castiel agreed. “The best this world has to offer.”

“No,” Lilith interrupted. She held up her arm and shook the bracelet. “You’re not walking out of here with my prize money maker. Castiel, sit down!”

Castiel snapped the bracelet off his wrist.

“You can do that?” Meg whispered.

“I’m an angel,” Castiel said calmly. “It’s only a minor spell. I could have broken it any time.”

“Any time?” Meg said, raising an eyebrow.

Castiel shrugged. “My wing is almost healed.  Perhaps it would have taken more effort before.  But magic is no match for the grace of an angel.”

There was suddenly a low, vibrating hum in the room. The chairs in the room began to sway, slightly, and the screen on Castiel’s television cracked. White light began to brighten the dim room, growing and growing, and Meg pressed her hands to her ears as they began to ring painfully.

“What did you do?” Lilith seethed.

“They’re coming,” Castiel answered. “My brethren. They’re probably going to kill me. They’ll certainly kill you. You should probably transfer the spell to Meg. And soon.”

“They’ll kill her too!” Lilith screeched.

“Probably,” Meg answered, trying to look bored instead of terrified with her hands pressed to her ears.

“Fine! Here!” Lilith unclasped her bracelet, strode over to Meg, and tied the charm to Meg’s wrist none too gently. Meg watched—the room beginning to be so bright that the color was leeching from Lilith’s hair and skin—as Lilith mouthed the words to transfer the spell.

Castiel replaced the bracelet on his own wrist. And the light and the whining hum died away as if they had never been.

“Get out,” Lilith whispered into the quiet. “Get out Meg, and never come back.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Meg replied. It wasn’t the first time either. But this time, instead of feeling inadequate, or guilty, or ashamed, she just felt relief.

Lilith’s Fayre wasn’t home. Maybe Meg would never find it again. But suddenly that didn’t hurt so much.

“Are you coming, Cas?” Meg asked.

He cocked his head. “Of course.”

“I’m not going to use the spell. Not that it would work anyway, obviously. So if you want to pull an Incredible Hulk, go on a trek to see America, I’m not stopping you. You don’t have to stay with me. You can go anywhere.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Castiel murmured and pressed a gentle kiss to Meg’s mouth.

She took his hand and they walked out of the tent and into the evening. Guy tipped his chin as Meg walked past and she smiled at him, lifting her fingers in a lazy wave.

The airstream was idling at the curb, Casey behind the wheel. Meg popped open the door and pulled Castiel into the RV.

“So, everything good?” Casey asked.

“Yup,” Meg replied.

“We’re never allowed back here again, right?”

“Right.”

Casey shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

Lenore was seated at the banquette, knees up and arms wrapped around them. She nodded to Castiel as he passed her to take a seat next to Casey up front. The airstream pulled away from the curb and rolled off up to the highway, leaving the sounds and scents of the boardwalk behind.

“Hi,” Meg said softly as she took a seat next to Lenore.

“Hi.” Her eyes flickered to the second bracelet on Meg’s wrist. “Collected a new one, I see.”

“You still mad?”

Lenore rolled her eyes. “I was never mad.”

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Meg said, swallowing painfully.

“I kind of don’t have a choice.”

“You do. Castiel can break the halenoi spell. You can walk out of here right now if you want.”

“It’s true, Lenore,” Castiel called from the front.

Casey punched him in the shoulder. “Here’s a tip ‘New Guy’: when they start arguing pretend you can’t hear them, okay?”

“But we _can_ hear them. We can hear everything.”

“Jesus—Look, just pretend. Can you pretend?”

“Shut up!” Lenore snapped and Meg jerked a bit at the ire in her vampire’s normally gentle voice. “Meg, I’m not leaving. You can be so stupid, sometimes.”

“You didn’t want this. You didn’t want any of this. And the next nest—“

“There aren’t going to be any more nests,” Casey called back.

“I thought we were pretending we couldn’t hear them,” Castiel said.

“Ugh, why am I even with you three dummies?” Casey replied but Meg could tell from her voice she was smiling. “Meg, we don’t need a nest.”

“We need a Queen—“

“You are a Queen,” Casey interrupted. “You have been since before you killed Crowley. You leveled up. Staying with Lilith wouldn’t have worked out anyway. There can only be one Queen to a nest.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you’d figure it out. I have to spell everything out for you guys.” Lenore jerked her head in Castiel’s direction. “Even more so for this guy, apparently.”

“Oh.” Nothing feeling right, that crawling under Meg’s skin, Lilith’s decrees rubbing her the wrong way. That pressing need to be with Lenore and Casey and now Cas. Queen. Meg smiled. Her nest may be small and weird, but it was her own.

“A nest of one demon, a vampire and an angel?”

Casey shrugged, wrists draped over the wheel. “Works for us, right? Guy seemed kind of interested if you want to add one more.”

“I think I have all I can handle right now.”

“Who is Guy?” Castiel asked.

Meg looked back at Lenore. “Do you want to stay?”

“Vampires mate for life,” Lenore said. “It was never the bracelet, Meg. It was you.”

“Demons don’t mate like that,” Meg said, feeling a bit dizzy at Lenore’s confession.

“I love you, Meg,” Lenore murmured. “You’re never going to want me to leave. I always want to be with you. What’s the difference, really?”

“Listen to your wife,” Casey called back. “You two are both so stupid about this whole thing.”

Lenore leaned in and kissed Meg’s cheek.

“Are you also Meg’s wife?” Castiel asked Casey, brow crinkled in confusion.

“You are all my wives,” Meg snarked back at him. “I am a Queen and you are my harem.”

“Then where’s my motherfucking diamond ring, hag?” Casey called back.

“Does Casey want a bracelet, too?” Castiel asked.

“Everybody shut up,” Meg answered, smiling. “Casey, take us north. We’ll follow the coast.”

END

 


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